


Tumblr Prompt Fills - Tsukkiyama

by lacewingss



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slightly NSFW in some chapters, so much fluff oh my god
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacewingss/pseuds/lacewingss
Summary: A collection of fills for various prompts received on tumblr. Tsukkiyama edition. (who am I kidding there will only ever be a tsukkiyama edition because I guess that's all I write now??)





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Did you really just sneeze on me? I don’t want to get sick!”

They were laying on the bed together, stomachs pressed into the mattress and arms propped up at the elbows. Yamaguchi had his feet tangled around Tsukishima’s, and every so often he would rub his foot up the length of his calf. A textbook was spread open in front of them, two notebooks side by side with pens resting on the paper or in between restless fingers.

Tsukishima moved to turn a page of the book, first glancing at Yamaguchi to make sure he had finished reading. The other boy’s eyes, slightly wet and a tinge red, were staring unfocused down at the words. Tsukishima flipped one page, then another. There was no reaction from Yamaguchi. He only continued to stare, hardly blinking.

“Yamaguchi? Hey.”

The sudden sound of his name was enough to stir Yamaguchi out of his daze. He shook his head as if to clear it, then sniffled. He looked up from the page and over at Tsukishima, who noticed not for the first time that Yamaguchi’s nose was redder than usual, and his cheeks paler.

He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was Tsukishima would never know. Instead of words, Yamaguchi inhaled sharply and sneezed.

Tsukishima pushed himself up to his knees with a start, his hands already wiping his face in disgust.

“Did you really just sneeze on me?” he asked in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. He pulled off his glasses in order to clean the specks of clear mucus from them, his lips pulled down in a grimace.  “I don’t want to get sick!”

Next to him Yamaguchi sniffled again and wiped his dripping nose with the back of his hand.

“It’s just allergies,” he mumbled.

Glasses clean, Tsukishima replaced them and looked back at Yamaguchi with a roll of his eyes.

“What are you allergic to?”

He only shrugged and attempted a smile, which was interrupted by another loud sneeze. _He’s not allergic to anything,_ Tsukishima thought. If Yamaguchi had ever been allergic to anything in his life, then he would have known. There were few things left about him that Tsukishima did not already know, and it was obvious by the way Yamaguchi looked guiltily up at him that he was aware Tsukishima knew he was lying.

Tsukishima rolled off the bed and plucked a tissue from the box on his desk. He held it out to Yamaguchi. “Here. At least cover your mouth when you sneeze, for god’s sake.”

“Thanks, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said, and this time managed the smile he had tried a moment ago. Even with his nose running and his eyes foggy and far off Tsukishima wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss his dry chapped lips. He fought back the urge and instead laid back on the bed, turning the pages in the text book back to the correct spot.

Not ten minutes had passed before Tsukishima was out of bed again.

“Okay. That’s it,” he said, and motioned towards the head of the mattress where a stack of pillows waited.  “Lay down.”

Yamaguchi blinked and blotted his eyes with a fistful of tissue. “What?”

“This is a waste of time. I can’t concentrate with you sniffling.”  

Already Tsukishima was picking up the notebooks and pens and putting them on the desk. He ignored Yamaguchi’s mumbled protests and grabs for the books, lifting them out of his reach easily.

“Lay down and rest a bit,” he said after the bed was clear but for Yamaguchi’s sprawled body. “That way you’ll feel better tomorrow and I won’t have to deal with the idiots alone.”

Tsukishima was ready to argue with Yamaguchi’s insistence that he was not, in fact, sick. He was even prepared to force the covers over him if need be, but to his surprise Yamaguchi only yawned and rubbed at his face.

“I guess it would be nice to close my eyes for a few minutes,” he said, crawling his way to the head of the bed. He patted the empty space next to him. “Will you lay down with me?”

Tsukishima’s feet instinctively started back towards the bed. It took all he had not to climb in and pull the blankets up over the two of them. It would have been easy to let Yamaguchi rest his head on his chest and listen to his somewhat labored breaths until they both drifted to sleep.

“No,” he answered firmly, more to himself than to Yamaguchi. “I already told you I don’t want to get sick. But I’ll sit right over here. I still have to study. I won’t go anywhere.”

He thought Yamaguchi frowned at his refusal, but it might have been a play of the sun setting through the curtains.

“Wake me up in fifteen minutes?” Yamaguchi asked, and his voice was already a whisper trailing off to nothing as he eyes fluttered twice, then shut.

“Yeah, sure,” Tsukishima said, knowing full well that he would let Yamaguchi sleep as long as he needed, even if it meant he had to spend the night in his desk chair so Yamaguchi could rest undisturbed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Roam: one character touching the other all over + Undress: one character watching the other get naked

“Ugh. It’s way too hot outside.”

Tsukishima looked up at the sound of Yamaguchi entering the room. His face was flushed and his hair hung limply over his eyes, damp with sweat. A stray strand was poking out from the back of his head, as if he had brushed it up into the air in an effort to clear his neck from the weight.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have gone for a run,” Tsukishima countered, congratulating himself again for refusing Yamaguchi’s invitation a short while earlier. As nice as it was to see his boyfriend drenched in sweat he would rather avoid it himself.

“And have Hinata spam me with sad face emojis?” Yamaguchi laughed as he tugged off first one shoe, then the other. He tossed them by the door and wiggled his toes once they were free from his socks. It was a small gesture, but Tsukishima noticed it as much as he would have noticed Yamaguchi parading into the room stark naked.    

“It wasn’t so terrible. He only threw up once.”

Tsukishima made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a scoff.

“Disgusting.”

Yamaguchi scrunched his nose up, little wrinkles forming along the bridge and under his eyes. “Yeah, it was pretty gross.”

He turned away from Tsukishima then and stretched his arms over his head. A semi circle of sweat had turned his white shirt almost translucent around his neck and in a line up from where his lower back met the hem of his shorts. The fabric clung to him, and Tsukishima suffered a moment of intense jealousy that Hinata had been there running beside Yamaguchi when he was looking so damn irresistible. 

_Maybe I should have went running too,_ he began to think, but soon forgot what it was he was jealous about when Yamaguchi gripped at the bottom of his shirt and lifted it over his head in one fluid motion.

He could not tear his eyes away from the freshly exposed skin. The mass of freckles littering Yamaguchi’s skin stood out like stars, covering nearly every inch of his back. He threw his wet shirt into the hamper in the corner, and Tsukishima was entranced by the way his arms flexed with the movement.

Were his biceps always that toned? Or was that a new development?

He was so engrossed in watching the muscles of Yamaguchi’s arm flex that he did not notice the other boy shifting his head to look at him.

“Are you watching me?”

There was a slight smile playing on Yamaguchi’s lips - that half shy half hopeful look that drove Tsukishima completely mad.

“No,” he lied.  “Should I be?”

Yamaguchi’s smile only deepened, and the flush on his cheeks from exercise mixed with a brand new one from his sudden embarrassment.

“No!” he giggled, crossing his arms in front of his chest in a mock attempt to shield himself from Tsukishima’s greedy gaze.

He made a show of rolling his eyes and turning back to the phone in his hands.

The sound of fabric rustling was too much to bear. Tsukshima tried looking out of the corner of his eyes first, just in case Yamaguchi was still on guard. Luck was on his side, though, as he was now focused on untying the knot of string at the waist of his shorts.

Tsukishima turned his head little by little until he had a clear view of Yamaguchi’s slender fingers worrying at the knot and, finally, agonizingly slowly, pulling the shorts down. He stepped out of them one leg at a time, hopping from one bare foot to the other in a dance that should have been comical but to Tsukshima was nothing but endearing.

Yamaguchi turned his back to him again, and this time Tsukishima noticed a span of bright red skin across his shoulders. It looked inflamed and angry already, even though it had only been a few minutes since Yamaguchi had come in out of the sun.

“You got burned on your shoulders.”

Yamaguchi jumped at his voice, as if he had already forgotten Tsukishima was in the room.

“Shoot, really?” he said, and twisted his body around to try and see the spot Tsukishima had mentioned. His abs tensed as he struggled to maneuver his body just the right way, and Tsukishima gave up even trying to disguise his staring.

“I’ll get some aloe,” he said after a long minute of enjoying watching the lines on Yamaguchi’s stomach stretch and twist.

When he returned from the bathroom, bottle of aloe in hand, Yamaguchi was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing only his boxers. Tsukishima noticed for the first time they had little cactuses on them, bright green on a backdrop of orange. They were childish and too bright, but for some reason Yamaguchi pulled them off better than he would a pair of form fitting briefs. He had to gulp back the lump of a groan as the smaller boy moved one leg to a more comfortable position and briefly exposed the white flesh of his upper thigh.

After a deep breath, Tsukishima took a seat behind Yamaguchi. He squirted a palmful of aloe into his hand and began to rub it across the plane of his boyfriend’s back.

Yamaguchi flinched at the sensation of the cold gel hitting his skin. The more times Tsukishima’s hands passed over his shoulders, though, the more he melted into his touch.

“Mmm, that feels really nice. Like squishy ice,” he said.

Tsukishima made a small noise of agreement. That was all he could manage. His hands, looking so pale next to Yamaguchi’s skin, were leaving the patch of sun burned skin behind and finding new places to roam. He passed over a thick cluster of freckles, and his fingertips pressed in when they found single dots away from the others. Yamaguchi’s body was hot from the sun and sticky from the drying sweat, and Tsukishima felt the resistance of it as his hands continued to press at the curves and angles of his back, sometimes sticking to the damp skin.

A quiet whimper escaped Yamaguchi’s lips as Tsukishima’s hands made it to his waist.

He did not want to stop, but the excuse of caring for Yamaguchi’s sunburn was running thin. It was then he noticed the slight tinge of red on the boys legs as well.

“Your knees got burnt too,” he said, his mouth breathing hot on to the aloe cooled skin of Yamaguchi’s shoulder blades.

Tsukishima reached around Yamaguchi’s now relaxed back and towards his legs. He could just reach them from where he sat and he silently thanked genetics for giving him such long and lanky arms.

Yamaguchi’s legs were even warmer than his back. The heat radiated from his skin in a way that begged Tsukishima to keep touching, keep stroking. Before long his fingers were trailing a line up to the leg of his boxers and sneaking beneath the fabric.

“T-tsukki, I don’t think I need aloe there,” Yamaguchi protested, though his voice was breathy and lacking in conviction. One hand even moved to grasp behind him at Tsukishima’s shirt and pull his chest flush with his back.

His hands still inching farther up Yamaguchi’s thigh, Tsukishima chuckled.

“I think you do.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Signs of affection: a whisper

“Tsukki?”

Three futons over the hiss of Yamaguchi’s whisper disturbed the silence of the dark room.

“Are you sleeping?” he asked, and though the room was filled with ten other boys, Tsukishima knew the question was directed at him.

Feigning sleep would be no use. The moment he moved Yamaguchi would realize he was awake, and the pestering would not stop until he acknowledged the other boy. He resisted the urge to check the time on his phone and mutter something about needing his sleep, and instead let out an almost inaudible sigh.

“No.”

Yamaguchi’s answer was instant. “Me neither.”

“And?” Tsukishima asked, though he knew what was coming. The same scene had played out last night, the first of many spent away from home. Being somewhere unfamiliar was hard for Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima knew it better than any of their teammates, so he was prepared when Yamaguchi craved the comfort of something familiar.

“Can I come over there?”

“Just be quiet about it,”  Tsukishima whispered back. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”

He opened to eyes in time to match the sound of rustling with the shadowed form of Yamaguchi to his right. What little moonlight passed through the half open curtains provided only outlines and dulled edges until it was difficult to make out any specifics around him. The sleeping boys lying side by side were all in shades of grey and silver, their faces bathed in night and dreams. Even Nishinoya next to him looked peaceful, to the point where Tsukishima thought maybe he had been replaced with a doll or a cut out.

Halfway to him Yamaguchi stumbled and nearly collided with one of their teammates. It must have been Tanaka, as his grumbled exclamation was loud enough to reach Tsukishima. He bit the inside of his lip, willing the second year to remain asleep, but was unable to do anything other than lay on his own futon and pretend to sleep. A moment of stillness passed, and Yamaguchi resumed his half crawl over to Tsukishima without further incident.

“Happy?” he asked when Yamaguchi settled down next to him. Even in the dim light he could make out details with Yamaguchi this close. He was no longer merely an outline but defined features, the angles and curves of his face clear. Instead of brown his eyes shone silver like the stars, and his skin was covered not in freckles but in specs of glitter that Tsukishima imagined would rub off on his fingers if he brushed his hand across Yamaguchi’s exposed arms.

“Mhmm!” Yamaguchi nodded, and the black of his hair caught a stray beam of moonlight and shone as it moved across his forehead. “I’m too achy too fall asleep. My legs hurt.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have practiced past dinner,” Tsukishima whispered back. Only two days into their week long training camp and already Yamaguchi was over working himself. It wasn’t surprising, but it was concerning. He would have to ask around and find a bottle of muscle relaxers for Yamaguchi tomorrow. He couldn’t come crawling into Tsukishima’s futon every night. This wasn’t like back home. If they weren’t careful someone was bound to wake up, see them huddled together, and get the wrong idea. Or an idea that had not been shared with anyone else yet, at least.

Under the blanket Tsukishima shifted, moving  towards the edge of the futon as much as he could. He lifted the corner up and nodded at Yamaguchi.

“Get under, you can’t fall asleep if you’re cold, too.”

The futon was barely big enough for both of them. With Nishinoya a foot to their left and Ennoshita to their right, getting under the blanket was a struggle that Tsukishima had little faith Yamaguchi could manage quietly. He wiggled his feet under first and Tsukishima stifled a gasp when they touched his leg, freezing and bare.

Yamaguchi squirmed the rest of the way under the cover, grabbing hold of the corner from Tsukishima and lifting it up just enough to get all of his right side beneath it.

“Hey, watch it!” Tsukishima hissed as Yamaguchi’s arm narrowly missed his face.

“Shh.” Yamaguchi moved the offending arm and covered Tsukishima’s mouth with his hand. Like his feet it was chilled to the bone, and Tsukishima could not suppress a shiver this time. “Now who’s going to wake someone up?”

True to his words, Nishisnoya tossed around in the futon beside them. The disquieting expression of peace was gone from his face, and though that in itself was a relief to Tsukishima, the fact that he was rousing from his sleep was not.

Huddled together beneath the blanket, he and Yamaguchi were quiet for a while. He hardly dared to breathe in case Nishinoya felt it and it pushed him over the threshold into wakefulness. The minutes ticked by and his mind raced with excuses for Yamaguchi clinging to him, from the mundane to the unbelievable.

Eventually Nishinoya’s breathing became steady again, and he rolled to his side, facing away from them. Tsukishima let out his breath and allowed his head to slump onto Yamaguchi’s pleasantly warm shoulder. Tsukishima snuggled closer to his body heat and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy.

They couldn’t keep doing this. Someone was going to find out. He had to make sure Yamaguchi returned to his own futon before the morning. But first he would relax for just a few minutes.

Some time later, when Tsukishima was on the edge of sleep, he felt a wash of warm air over his ear as Yamaguchi whispered into it.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

“What?” he mumbled, his lips moving on Yamaguchi’s neck.

“I’m glad we’re here together. I don’t think it would be as much fun without you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, struggling to speak through the thick of drowsiness. Sleep was fast claiming his consciousness, and the longer he tried to keep his eyes open the heavier they became. He wished he did not have to struggle, that he could fall asleep without worrying that he did so embracing Yamaguchi. _Someday,_ he thought before losing the battle and closing his eyes. Someday they would not need to whisper in the dark.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

He could remember every missed chance, every close call and every moment of hesitation. Each time he thought _this is it_ , this is finally the right time. His heart would start to race, his chest tighten until it was hard to breathe for the suspense. Tsukishima would get close, so close he could see the tiny screws holding his glasses together at the sides. Sometimes Yamaguchi would even close his eyes in preparation, wanting their first kiss to be just like in the storybooks.

And then Tsukishima would pull away. Or he’d bow his head, looking down at his shoes. Or a door would slam somewhere in the house and they would both jump like scared children.

Other times it just felt right, to least to him. When they won their latest match against Seijou everyone was cheering and smiling, the pressure of the game released in one giant shout of victory. Yamaguchi had done something he never had in front of the team before and ran to Tsukishima and threw his arms around him. With a gymnasium full of spectators he had gripped him back, clutching him close. Tsukishima was coated in sweat and nearly dead on his feet, but he still had the strength to hold onto Yamaguchi. The other boys were embracing, too. Yamaguchi could see them out of the corner of his eye, congratulating each other and sharing in their moment of victory. When he turned to look fully at Tsukishima he found the other boy staring at him, something deep and warm in his eyes. Yamaguchi lifted his chin up instinctively, only to have Tsukishima drop his arms and turn away.

He wasn’t misconstruing Tsukishima’s feelings. He knew him too well for that. He had Tsukishima’s own words to fall back on, too. He might not have meant to say them when he did but what was done was done. Tsukishima had said himself that he cared for Yamaguchi beyond what it meant to be a friend, or a teammate, or even family. It was in a heated moment, and nothing had come of it besides the revelation of Yamaguchi’s own feelings, but the words were out in the open now. Where they took the two boys was up to them.

After that Yamaguchi waited.

He could have done it himself. He could have mustered up what little courage he had and made the first move. It wasn’t like he _needed_ Tsukishima to kiss him first. Yamaguchi just wanted him to. Something inside of him longed to be wanted by Tsukishima enough for the other boy to lose his composure and act on impulse, or else to calculate the perfect moment and follow through. Either way would be fine, so long as there was the same need in Tsukishima’s eyes as there was in his own.

Yamaguchi thought he saw it time and time again. At the end of the match, in his bedroom late at night, in the mornings when they walked to school together - each time it was there, a glimmer in his eyes, and each time Tsukishima chose instead to hide it.

After a few weeks Yamaguchi began to doubt. Maybe he _was_ misjudging how Tsukishima felt. Maybe the sparks in his eyes were glare from the sun, or caused by him thinking of someone else entirely. Even the words he said about having feelings for Yamaguchi - maybe he had misheard, or taken them further than he should have. Maybe what he was waiting for was never going to happen.

Yamaguchi’s worrying reached its peak one day after practice. He sat in the club room, his jacket half on and his bag of practice clothes on the floor by his feet. The other boys had all gone, leaving him and Tsukishima alone in the small room. From the window the last rays of a brilliant sunset colored everything in gold and orange light.

“Are you coming?” Tsukishima asked from the doorway, and when Yamaguchi looked at him he was silhouetted by the sky and sun, a tall figure that could have been sent from the heavens for how unearthly he looked.

A sharp pain stabbed Yamaguchi’s heart and he tore his eyes away, but the bright light burnt an after image of Tsukishima into his retinas.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, pulling the other arm of his jacket on. He blinked his eyes, trying to escape the vision of Tsukishima. When the image faded a shadow had fallen over the club room door, and Tsukishima was once again just a normal boy. Except that to Yamaguchi he never was.

“Um, no, actually,” he said, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

“No?” Tsukishima took a step back into the room, completing the end of the illusion. “What’s wrong with you today?”

Yamaguchi shrugged, though he knew it was no use. Every day it was harder than the last to act like he was not disappointed each time Tsukishima smiled at him or stood just a bit too close. If he did not find out the truth soon it would continue to eat away at him until there was nothing left but anxiety and doubt.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. It’s…its not me.”

“Okay?” Tsukishima took a seat on the bench next to Yamaguchi. “What is it then? Did someone do something?”

Still unable to look up from his feet, Yamaguchi nodded.

“Yeah. You.”

“What?” Tsukishima asked, and Yamaguchi felt him stiffen beside him, like the sudden accusation had caught him off guard. _At least he doesn’t know what he’s doing, then,_ Yamaguchi thought.    

“Yamaguchi, what-”

“Why,” he cut Tsukishima off with a whisper, “haven’t you kissed me yet?”

In his lap, Yamaguchi’s fingers wrung and twisted each other, forgetting about the zipper. The rest of him was still, but he could not control the way his nails scratched at his palms, or the frantic thumping of his heart.

“What…” Tsukishima repeated, stunned. Yamaguchi chanced a glance at him and his face was frozen, his features set in surprise.

“It’s been weeks and I thought-I thought that you would by now. After you said you cared about me, and then all those times I _really thought_ you were going to kiss me.”

Yamaguchi’s voice was rising, somewhat choked by the tears that threatened to spill. What was he saying? Why was it all coming out again, just like the night he had told Tsukishima he, too, had feelings stronger than friendship. Nothing had come of his confession then, so why would anything be different now?

“I was wrong, right?” he said, and now the tears could not be stopped. They rolled down his cheeks and splattered onto his collar. He brought his hands up in an attempt to hide them, and his face. “I’m sorry, Tsukki, I’m so dumb.”

When Tsukishima’s hands touched his Yamaguchi flinched. They were pulled gently away from his face, held loosely so he could remove them if he wanted, but Tsukishima’s hands around his were so warm that the thought never occurred. 

Yamaguchi looked up and into Tsukishima’s face. It was close, closer than it had been when he sat down. Closer than it had been during any of the times Yamaguchi had thought he was going to kiss him. And it was getting closer still.

He did not think to close his eyes, or tilt his head or smile or any of the things that happened in storybook first kisses. He just sat there, stunned and immobile, as Tsukishima’s lips pressed delicately to his.

“Don’t say that,” Tsukishima said when he pulled away. Yamaguchi’s hand slipped out of his hold and reached to touch his lips, now slightly moist and parted.

The world was a daze, with the orange light giving way to dark shadows and the chill of early autumn pushing in through the open door. Was this real? Why now, after all those other perfect times?

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi said when he could move his lips again. His voice was quiet and unsure. “This, this isn’t just because I said something, right? If I was wrong you don’t have to do this.”

“I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do.” Tsukishima pursed his lips, and Yamaguchi felt his fingers tighten around the hand he still held. “I was…I was waiting for you to do it.”

Yamaguchi almost laughed as a weight lifted from his chest. All those moments - he had been right about them. He just had not known that on the other side of it all, Tsukishima was feeling the same things as he was.

“Really?”

Tsukishima shrugged and tried to turn his face away. A light stain of pink covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Yeah, so?”

“We’re both pretty dumb, then, huh?” Yamaguchi was grinning now, the doubt that had been with him the last week shed completely.

“Speak for yourself,” Tsukishima said. He let go of Yamaguchi’s hand and brought his own up to tilt Yamaguchi’s chin. This time he was ready, and when Tsukishima kissed him he closed his eyes and melted into it.

This was what Yamaguchi had been waiting for. This was the storybook kiss, the moment perfect not because _everything_ was perfect, but because any moment with Tsukishima was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “The way I feel when I’m with you…”

Tsukishima could not stop his damn hands from shaking. It was stupid, the way his body did not listen to his brain. He should be able to control the movement of his hands just like he did his feet; if he could take slow and even steps over to Yamaguchi why couldn’t he keep the case held in his hands steady as well?   
Giving Yamaguchi a mix cd had never been difficult before. He had done it plenty of times, more frequently when they first became friends and he realized just how terrible the other boy’s taste in music was, but never stopping entirely. By now Yamaguchi must have a shelf’s worth of jeweled cases all lined up full of Tsukishima’s attempts to show him that music could actually be good. What was different about this one, he knew, was the way he had picked the songs to put on it. 

It was themed, like many of his other mixes. Shower Songs, Running Songs, The Wind in the Morning, Fuck Fukurodani - the inspiration behind each of these mixes was clear. The one he held with trembling fingers, though, was nothing like those. 

“Yamaguchi,” he said, walking up beside him. He held out the cd case, internally screaming at his hands to _stay still for just one minute, please._ “Here.”

Yamaguchi reached out and took it from him, his fingers brushing Tsukishima’s in a way that did not seem to affect him but sent a shiver running down Tsukishima’s spine. With his hands now empty, he was able to shove them into the pockets of his sweatshirt before their shaking was noticed. 

“What’s this?” Yamaguchi asked, turning the case over.

“Its a mix,” he answered, and considered it a victory that he could at least keep his voice from trembling. There were still parts of him he could control when Yamaguchi was around. 

“Oh, cool! It’s been a while since you gave me one of these. Thanks.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes scanned the back of the case, taking in what Tsukishima had written in his neat and even handwriting.

“The way I feel when I’m with you…?” he read, and the instant he heard it Tsukishima regretted putting the tittle right on the front. He should have hid it in tiny print on the side, or not named it at all. 

“That’s not one of your better titles, Tsukki!”Yamaguchi laughed, which only furthered Tsukishima’s growing resentment. One of his hands left its safe place in his pocket and grabbed at the case.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back,” he said.

Before he could get a good hold on it, Yamaguchi slipped his hands behind his back and away from Tsukishima’s reach.

“No! I want it,” he said, his laughter faded away into a worried frown. 

Tsukishima knew his expressions well enough to guess that he thought he had upset Tsukishima, and was now trying to make up for it. “I’ll listen to it right-”

“No,” Tsukishima interrupted, maybe a bit too hastily. Yamaguchi blinked back surprise, but Tsukishima could not let him listen to the mix just yet. Not while he was there. Not while he would be able to see Yamaguchi’s expression change when he realized what this mix really meant. 

“Wait until you get home tonight.”

“Uh, okay?” Yamaguchi brought the case back from behind him and began to shove it into his bag. He stopped suddenly and turned to Tsukishima with a wide grin. “Tuskki, are there naughty songs on here?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes as he started to walk towards the gymnasium for practice. He was suddenly glad he had left off a handful of songs that would have been considered just that. 

“‘Naughty?’ Who are you, Tanaka?”

* * *

Back at home, Tsukishima kept his phone on him all night. When it buzzed during dinner his mother scolded him for checking it, which would not have been so bad if it wasn’t just a spam email that the notification was from. 

He was waiting for a text from Yamaguchi, or even a phone call. Anything that let Tsukishima know that he had listened to the mix and that he understood. Every hour that went by without confirmation set him more and more on edge.

Had he not been clear enough? Songs like _Heart Attack_ and _Eyes on You_ were innocuous enough, but there was little room for interpretation in ones like _No One’s Gonna Love You_ and _Can’t Help Falling in Love_. There was no way Yamaguchi would miss the point; he was smart, too. That left only two conclusions. Either Yamaguchi hadn’t listened to it yet, or he had but didn’t feel the same way.

Tsukshima flipped over on his stomach in his bed and smashed his face into a pillow. He wanted to scream out his frustration, but couldn’t afford another lecture from his mother tonight. 

On the pillow next to him his phone buzzed. Excited, he lifted his head and picked it up, his heart racing.

**“Tsukki! This mix!!”**      

  
Yamaguchi’s text flashed on the screen, below it three little dots showing he was typing out another message. His habit of replying to texts in multiple lines had never bothered Tsukishima as much as it did now.

**“This is the best one you’ve ever made but…”  
**

     
_But? But I can’t say the same things to you. But this isn’t how I feel?_

  
**“You forgot a song - ‘I think I love you.’”**

****  
This time Tsukishima did shout into his pillow, lecture be damned.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Because I love you!”

The clock on the desk read two forty-five a.m when Tsukishima walked into his room, his hair in disarray and an agitated frown on his face. He had his arms crossed over his chest, obscuring the print of his old volleyball shirt from hight school. Yamaguchi looked up from the textbook in front of him and blinked his eyes a few times to clear the blur of numbers and equations away. 

“Don’t you have class in the morning? Like, in a few hours?” Yamaguchi asked when Tsukishima made no move to come farther in the room. “Why are you still awake?”

“Your light is bothering me,” he answered. Behind him and across the hall Yamaguchi could see the open door and into Tsukishima’s room. The lights were off, and his bed sheets were pulled to the side, as if he had thrown them off in a moment of frustration. 

“And you need to go to bed,” Tsukishima added.

Yamaguchi sighed and glanced at the book on the desk, the words and figures swimming in his vision. If he concentrated he could still make everything out well enough. He probably should have started earlier, but the middle of the night always snuck up on him before he even thought of starting his classwork.

“In a bit, I’ve still got to finish this reading.”

In the doorway Tsukshima clicked his tongue.

“Finish it in the morning. You’re exhausted. Come to bed.”

Again Yamaguchi looked past Tsukishima and into the other room. The shadows were inviting, and the pillows pushed up against the head board he knew to be full of soft down. In contrast his own bed was almost as messy as Tsukishima’s hair; the covers were tangled and half off the mattress, a stack of magazines was scattered on one side, and a bag of half eaten chips was nested by the pillows. If he didn’t want to wake up with chip dust in his hair it would be another fifteen minutes just to make space for himself on the bed.

Just thinking of sleeping made Yamaguchi realize how tired he really was. He shut the textbook and stood, stretching his arms up and yawning.

“To your bed?” he asked Tsukishima, hopeful.

“If that’s what’ll get you to sleep, yeah.”

Across the hall in Tsukishima’s room Yamaguchi crawled into the left side of the bed - the side he reserved for himself every time he slept in it. When Tsukishima took off his glasses and slid in next to him, Yamaguchi wiggled closer. Tsukishima’s arms were already wrapping around him, his body moving until they fit snugly together.

With the lights off, Yamaguchi could only just make out Tsukishima’s features. His eyes were already closed, the lines of stress on his face smoothed over. He must be exhausted this late at night. Yamaguchi felt a pang of guilt that he played a hand in keeping Tsukishima awake so long. But from this spot on the bed…

“The light wasn’t really bothering you, was it?” he asked.

“Not really.”

Yamaguchi pressed his face into Tsukishima’s chest, though in the dark there was no danger of Tsukishima nothing the blush that was creeping over his cheeks.

“Why do you always look out for me so much?” he asked, and a thousand situations played in his memories of Tsukishima checking in on him or fussing over him in his own subtle way. He was always there to make sure Yamaguchi got enough sleep and remembered to eat dinner, or to remind him that he was cared for and important when he was feeling anything but.

“Because I love you,” Tsukishima mumbled, kissing the top of Yamaguchi’s head. “Now go to sleep for god sake.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “It’s always been you.”

“I can’t believe this,” Yamaguchi said in awe. 

It was late; well past midnight on a Tuesday night. He stood in the middle of the empty room, his eyes scanning the walls, the windows, the floor. It was small, and the light wouldn’t come in through the windows in the morning, but it was okay. It was better than okay. It was _home._

“You’re in the way,” Tsukishima said from behind him. Yamaguchi turned to watch him walk through the front door, two boxes stacked in his arms, almost high enough to cover his face.

“Oh! Sorry Tsukki! Let me help.”

An hour later they had moved all of their belongings from the car into their new apartment. Boxes were scattered across the three small rooms, some open and rifled through in order to find a cup, or a blanket, or a toothbrush. In what little space there was the boxes made it feel full, even those that were unopened.

“That’s all of it,” Kei said as he closed the door behind him and turned the lock.

Yamaguchi grinned so wide his eyes wrinkled at the corners. With the closing of the door it was real; a new chapter of he and Tsukishima’s life was about to begin. He could feel the laughter bubbling up inside of him.

“It’s official then, huh? We’re living together!”

“We’ve lived together for three years already, Tadashi.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Yamaguchi answered. He took hold of Tsukishima’s hand and pulled him into the tiny bedroom where their mattress lay bare on the floor.  There were no sheets on it yet, and the pillows were scattered on the floor next to it. “With one bed. And without any roommates.”

The emptiness of the apartment seemed to hit Tsukishima all at once. Here they had total freedom to be themselves, and to be together in any way they pleased. He reached out for Yamaguchi and took him in his arms before tumbling down onto the mattress. They landed with a a soft thud and a chorus of giggles from Yamaguchi.

“I’m excited, too,” Kei said once it was quiet again, and looking into his eyes Yamaguchi knew it was true.

He nuzzled closer to Tsukishima, letting his breathing even out. The late hour was starting to show itself in the drooping of his eye lids and the fatigue of his body. They still have a lot of unpacking to do, but maybe it could wait until the morning. They had the rest of their lives, after all.

“Hey,” Tsukishima said as Yamaguchi was beginning to doze off. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” he mumbled.

Next to him Tsukishima shifted and propped himself up on one elbow. Yamaguchi rolled to his side and looked up at him, curious.

“You know. Not figuring out how I felt until a couple years ago. Not being able to move out like this before. All of that.”

Yamaguchi almost laughed. The idea of Tsukishima apologizing to him was almost too absurd. Here they were, living together and in love, and he felt the need to apologize. That was something Yamaguchi himself might have done, but coming from Tsukishima it felt unnatural. Besides, there was nothing to apologize for.

“You’re apologizing for that? Don’t be stupid, Tsukki. I didn’t mind waiting,” he said, his voice as earnest as he could make it.

“Now that’s something I can’t believe.”

“Well you better,” Yamaguchi said, and he reached out to lace his fingers with Tsukishima’s. “I was never worried about it. I love you. I’ve always loved you. When I imagined myself in this situation it was you with me every time.”

The smile that Tsukishima gave him melted Yamaguchi’s heart. It was the private one reserved only for him, the one that no one else knew he had. It was so gentle and soft that Yamaguchi’s breath caught in his throat every time he saw it.

“Heh. Even back in high school you thought the two of us would end up here?” Tsukishima asked, and he motioned around the empty room, the empty apartment.

“Of course I did. _It’s always been you, Kei._ You were always in my future.”

“I love you, but your certainty freaks me out,” Tsukishima said, and he slid forward so he could press a kiss to Yamaguchi’s lips. “I’m glad one of us knew it from the beginning though. I was an idiot for not realizing it.”

“Yeah, kind of.”  

Yamaguchi kissed him back and the promise of spending every night like this, wrapped up together in bed with no worries other than who would fall asleep first, was enough to fill his heart until he thought it would burst with happiness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "You make me so happy."

It was quiet in the coffee shop, the mellow music turned down low enough to make it nothing but static background noise. Spread out on the table in front of Kei were he and Tadashi’s laptops and a stack of handouts from their classes. Two mugs of coffee were within hands reach, one dark and earthy, the other dulled to the color of sand by cream and sugar.

Kei was having a hard time focusing. Already he had downed one cup of coffee and moved on to a second, yet his screen showed only a smattering of words and sentences; nothing coherent enough to form the essay that was due in two days time. Instead he kept looking over at Tadashi, who unlike him was busy typing away. It was unusual to see him work so steadily and Kei so unable to, and he had to take a moment to consider the irony of the situation.

“Uh, Tsukki?” Tadashi said from the seat across from him. Kei blinked rapidly, pulling himself out of his reverie. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Huh? I’m not,” Kei answered, and looked away and back to his screen.

Tadashi huffed and slid part way out of his chair so he too could see Kei’s screen. He pointed at it like it was evidence.

“Yes, you are. Look, you’ve barely written anything down yet!”

Seeing no way to avoid it, Kei gave in. He had be caught.

“Oh,” he said, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Tadashi smiled, his eyes crinkling in triumph. He returned fully to his seat, but did not go back to typing.

“So, what is it?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in a way the exposed too much of his neck for Kei not to notice and struggle to keep his eyes away from. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Kei reached for his coffee and took a sip to hide the small smile that found its way to his lips. Tadashi had no idea how cute he looked today, and Kei was not about to admit that’s what had been distracting him.

Half a cup of black coffee later Kei had managed to write a total of eighty-five words. The look of concentration on Tadashi’s face was too hard to pass up: his nose scrunched when he had to think hard about something, his teeth biting his bottom lip when he was unsure. Watching him Kei felt his heart swell, and his fingers twitch with the desire to caress his freckled cheeks.

“Tsukki, stop! You’re doing it again,” Tadashi whined. “It’s kind of freaking me out.”

This time Kei did not look away. He kept his eyes on Tadashi’s, drinking in their warmth.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, you make me so happy,” Kei said. “It’s kind of frustrating honestly.”

As he watched them, Tadashi’s eyes grew wide. A faint blush started to rise in his cheeks, and soon even the tips of his ears were red.

“What! Frustrating?” he exclaimed finally, then smiled. “Say it again without that last part, maybe?”

Kei reached across the cluttered table, carefully avoiding the mugs of coffee, and took Yamaguchi’s hand in his. He gave the other boy a soft smile, the kind that was reserved only for him.

“Tadashi, you make me _so_ happy.”

Now Yamaguchi was grinning earnest, and he squeezed Kei’s hand before pulling his own away to return it to his keyboard.

“You make me happy, too. Kei,” he said, and Kei swore his heart was going to burst through his chest. “Stop staring at me, though.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt- "Don't leave me."

Kei woke from a dream where the sky was filled with green stars. They twisted like vines and shone like the moon, casting a green hue over the world he walked in over soft, moss like ground. There had been a warm breeze and in his hand was the soft pressure of another, their fingers laced with his.

He was not sure what had pulled him from his sleep. His room was in shadow and through the open window he could see the far off street lamp signaling that it was still night. The sheet around him was pulled half off, exposing his body to the heat of the summer air.

Then he heard it again: a quiet whimpering, soft and low.

Kei turned over in the bed, his limbs heavy with the pull of sleep. There, on his side facing Kei, was Tadashi. The sheet was thrown off of him, his body curled up with his knees to his chest. Beneath his lids his eyes moved rapidly, and his face was distorted in fear, tears streaming down his cheeks. The whimpers that had woken Kei were coming from him, and even as he watched Tadashi began to quietly cry out again.

“N-no,” he whispered, eyes scrunching. “Please…Don’t go, please.”

Kei reached out a hand, gently nudging at Tadadshi’s shoulder. This was not the first time Kei had found him crying in his sleep, but it _was_ the first time he was there lying beside him. How long had he been suffering right next to him? In his sleep addled mind Kei tried to think back to his own dream, to find the pieces that didn’t fit - the ones that hinted at what was going on around his slumbering body. Try as he might he could not find any, and he hated himself for enjoying his own world while Tadashi was in pain.

Tadashi flinched at his touch, as if he could feel it in his nightmare.

“K-kei,” he sobbed, and squeezed his eyes tighter. “Don’t leave me.”

Kei wanted to think he heard wrong, that Tadashi was not calling his name in such a desperate way. It stabbed at his heart, filling him with a guilt that he knew he didn’t deserve, but felt nonetheless. What could cause Tadashi to fear him leaving so much that he dreamed about it?

This time Kei did more than nudge at his shoulders. He half sat up on the bed and took Tadashi in both of his arms, gently shaking him.

“Tadashi,” he said, voice still thick from sleep but now with the whine of urgency. “Tadashi, wake up.”

In the dark the other boy’s eyes fluttered, then opened. He looked around, dazed and unsure, before spotting Kei holding onto him.

“Huh?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “What…”

“You were having a bad dream,” Kei said, keeping Tadashi safely in his arms. He made no attempt to move, or to try and lay back down.

“Oh.” Tadashi’s eyes retreated back into his own world again, and then his expression went from dim to worried. His lips wobbled as tears threatened again. “I remember.”

Sensing he was about to start crying again Kei pulled him in close to his chest, cradling the back of his head with one hand. “It’s alright. I’m here,” he mumbled soothingly. “Go back to sleep.”

Tadashi pressed back so he could still look up at Kei. His eyes were wide and watery, and Kei hated the look on his face more than anything he could remember.

“You-you won’t leave me, right?” Tadashi asked, his voice trembling.

“No,” Kei answered, and he kissed a spot on Tadashi’s forehead. “It was just a dream, Tadashi. I’m not leaving.”

A warm breeze blew the curtains out from the window, and Tadashi seemed to melt into Kei’s arms when it reached them. Kei’s words must have reassured him, as his eyes were growing heavy again, and he let his head fall forward and rest on Kei’s chest.

“Ever?” he said, so quiet Kei could hardly hear even this close. When he looked down Tadashi had his eyes closed and his breathing had steadied.

“Never,” Kei answered, and he too drifted back to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "Shut up and kiss me."

“Quit fidgeting,” Tsukishima complained, pulling at the thick blanket that covered him and Yamaguchi. “You’re messing up the blankets.”

On the couch next to him Yamaguchi gave a rueful smile and tried to scrunch his body so his feet were still covered.

“Sorry, Tsukki,” he said, and they both settled into the cushions again and turned back to watch the man on Tsukishima’s computer screen talk about the theory behind black holes.

They were quiet for a while, still under the blankets but for Tsukshima gently lacing his fingers with Yamaguchi’s. Even that small gesture was novel and exciting - it had only been a week since their feelings for each other had finally bubbled up above the surface. Everything he did with Yamaguchi now was new, even sitting close to each on the couch, watching a show they had already seen three times before.

The stillness ended when Yamaguchi shifted closer to Tsukishima, pulling the blanket with him. It uncovered Tsukishima’s side, leaving him out in the cold. When he turned to complain Yamaguchi was staring at him. He quickly looked away and back to the screen before Tsukishima could say anything.

The process repeated over the next half of the documentary. Yamaguchi couldn’t seem to sit still, and each time he was about to grumble about it Tsukishima saw Yamaguchi looking at him; sometimes straight on, sometimes out of the corner of his eyes, but always in some small way, biting at his lips and saying nothing.

“I’m going to take this blanket away from you,” Tsukishima finally said, reaching forward to pause the show. He turned to face Yamaguchi, who was in the middle of uncrossing his legs beneath the blanket.      

“Why are you moving around so much tonight?” he asked, omitting the question he really wanted to ask: _why do you keep looking at me like that?_

Yamaguchi pursed his lips and lowered his head, his hair falling to cover part of his face. Tsukishima could feel him wiggling his feet under the blanket, shaking the table they rested on.

“I….well I kind of want to kiss you,” he whispered. He looked up through the curtain of his hair, expression bashful and a hint scared. “You know, since we’re together now. It’s alright, right?”      

He looked up fully now, lifting his head and pushing his hair out of the way with an impatient hand.

“I mean it’s not just because we’re dating now that I want to kiss you. I wanted to before. For a really long time, but I always thought you’d get weird about it. And-“

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima interrupted, recognizing when the other boy was starting one of his nerve driven monologues. Outwardly his voice was firm and calm, and Tsukishima was more than a little proud of himself at that, for his insides were rapidly doing cartwheels after hearing the reason behind Yamaguchi’s restlessness.  

“Oh, I’m sorry Tsukki,” Yamaguchi continued, and his cheeks began to flush the color of a rose. “I’m rambling now, huh? It’s just, I’m kind of nervous. I don’t want you-“

“Tadashi,” he said again, and pulled a hand out from under the blanket and cupped it gently over one of Yamaguchi’s blushing cheeks. “Shut up and kiss me.”

The color almost drained from Yamaguchi’s face, leaving the stain of red that much redder and his freckles that much darker. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.

“W-what?”

Tsukishima raised his eyebrows, daring Yamaguchi to start talking again.

“Oh, well, okay,” Yamaguchi answered, and this time when he moved the shifting of the blankets did not bother Tsukishima. He was close and careful in his movements, and Tsukishima could feel the slight trembling of his body as he pressed it close to his. When their lips touched he thought he heard a small gasp from Yamaguchi, like he was in disbelief of what he had finally managed to to do.

When he pulled away, Tsukishima noticed the color had returned to Yamaguchi’s face, and now even his ears were bright red.

“Was that okay?” he asked, voice hardly more than a whisper.

Tsukishima smiled and rubbed his thumb along Yamaguchi’s cheek.

“I don’t know,” he said as he leaned forward again to brush his lips across Yamaguchi’s. “Better keep doing it.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "Why are you always such an asshole?" and "I'm tired of being treated like this."

“Come on, Yamaguchi. Let’s go.”

From his spot by the clubroom lockers Yamaguchi turned and saw Tsukishima waiting for him by the door. He already had his bag slung across his shoulder, a look of impatience on his face. Yamaguchi hurriedly shut the locker door and walked up to him, shaking his head apologetically.

“Oh, I’m going to go home with Hinata today. He wants to show me this new game he got,” he said. _Had he made plans with Tsukki for this afternoon?_ He was almost certain he hadn’t.

Tsukishima clicked his tongue with a noise of disdain.

“You’re hanging out with him again? Are you trying to lose brain cells or what?”

Sometimes Yamaguchi could tell when Tsukishima was being less than serious. Other times it was hard to pick out whether his words were said in jest or with the sting of truth. Right now Yamaguchi was certain he knew the way Tsukishima meant them, and it wasn’t the way he hoped. He was tired of hearing Tsukishima criticize his friend, and the constant bashing that Hinata received from Tsukishima when he wasn’t around to defend himself.

“Tsukki, stop. That’s mean,” he said, and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and started to walk out of the room. Yamaguchi followed, if only because the conversation wasn’t over, and part of him hoped that the other boy would drop his bad attitude and replace it with the pleasant side of him that Yamaguchi knew existed somewhere deep down.

“Why?” Tsukishima asked as they walked down the stairs. “Are you afraid he’ll over hear? Because I could care less what that little over confident up start cares. Maybe he should hear - then you’ll both realize that you have better things you could be doing than wasting your time with him.”

Yamaguchi bit his lip as he listened to Tsukishima go on, his voice getting progressively sharper. This wasn’t the first time he had said something along these lines - not just about Hinata but about almost all other people. It felt like the nice things Tsukishima had to say were so few and far between these days. Or had it always been like this? Yamaguchi tried to recall a time when his friend had more good things to talk about than bad, and found that he hard a hard time finding one.

Thinking about it left a raw sort of hurt in his chest, like something had been ripped out. Yamaguchi stopped at the bottom of the stairs, wringing his hands together.

“Why do you always have to such an asshole?” he demanded, wishing that Tsukishima would come back with a reason, a way for Yamaguchi to interpret what he said as only a joke, only his way of showing affection.

“Oh, right, I’m an asshole because I’m stating the obvious,” Tsukishima said, scoffing, and Yamaguchi’s wish fell flat. This was just Tsukishima. Maybe he was just an asshole and Yamaguchi had never quite let himself believe it before. Maybe he had been blinded by the memory of Tsukishima once standing up for him.

“Just tell Hinata you’re busy and come home with me instead,” Tsukishima was saying. “We’ll actually do something worth while.”

Yamaguchi shook his head and looked down at his feet. He could feel hot tears well in his eyes, the sudden realization that things were not what he had always thought hitting him hard.  

“I’m tired of being treated like this,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Tsukishima to hear, but not loud enough to sound firm.

Tsukishima caught onto the small sliver of doubt in Yamaguchi’s voice and dug in.

“Like what? Like someone’s caring about you and looking out for you? I’m so sorry, I was under the impression that was a good thing.”

With the heat of his tears Yamaguchi felt another rise in him; a heat that came misunderstanding, and doubt, and hurt. He wanted to yell at Tsukishima, to shout for him to just stop with the sarcasm, with the acid-laced comments and the apathy that only hurt everyone around him. Instead he could only find a small voice within him, one that sounded sad and suddenly lonely.

“Looking out for me? That’s not what you’re doing,” he said into the collar of his jacket. “You’re….being possessive. And a jerk. Why are you being like this?”

Yamaguchi had never seen the expression on Tsukishima’s before. It was part disgust, part anger, and part something else, something he couldn’t place. It might have been pain, but was so twisted in an attempt to conceal its meaning that Yamaguchi couldn’t be sure.

“Why would I be possessive of you?” Tsukishima said, voice cold. “If you’re tired of how I am just go then. Go hang out with Hinata every day instead of me. Have the time of your life. Send me a fucking postcard.”

With nothing else to say, Tsukishima turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Yamaguchi alone at the bottom of the stairs. His bag suddenly felt too heavy on his shoulders, and his jacket too tight across his chest. What he he just done? What had Tsukishima done? Yamaguchi didn’t know who was at fault for their argument, or whether it was more than just that. He was left with the ache in his chest growing steadily more insistent, and the worry that this was something that couldn’t be fixed by a few days spent apart.

“Tsukki…” he said softly, still watching Tsukishima as he walked away without turning back.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "You don't scare me." (very slightly nsfw)

Focusing on the book held in his hands had never been so difficult. Kei would begin to read a page, truly interested in the the subject matter and wanting nothing more than to become engrossed in it, when he would get distracted by something seen out of the corner of his eyes. He’d look up, keeping a finger in the book to mark his page, and see Tadashi across the room. He was playing a game on his phone, or watching a video, or _something_ that kept him sitting there. Every time Kei looked over at him he would move in the chair, and each subtle movement Tadashi made the bottom hem of his shorts would slide further up his thighs.

Kei sighed out his frustration, and attempted to go back to his book.

A few minutes later Tadashi shifted again, and another inch of his freckled leg was visible. Kei snapped his book shut and placed it in his lap. The sound pulled Tadashi out of whatever it was he was doing, and he looked over at Kei, curious.

“God, will you stop that?” Kei asked, and the exasperation was clear in his voice.

“Huh?” Tadashi put down his phone, then tilted his head in question. “What am I doing?”

Maybe Kei was over reacting. Maybe Tadashi had not been aware of the fabric of his shorts scrunching up around his leg. Maybe he wasn’t trying to distract Kei at all. But when Kei saw the start of a devilish smile on Tadashi’s lips he knew that was not the case at all.

“Throwing your leg over the chair like that,” he stated, gesturing towards the armchair in which Tadashi sat. Both of his legs were slung over one arm, his back resting against the other. The curve off is body while he lounged drew attention to the slimness of his waist, and the tight muscles that Kei knew hid beneath his shirt.

“This?” Tadashi asked, and stretched his leg further, unbending it at the knee. The hem of his shorts caught on the fabric of the chair and remained stubbornly where it was, exposing more of his skin.  

“What’s wrong with this, Tsukki?”

Kei rolled his eyes at Tadashi’s act. It used to be a rare occurrence - him teasing Kei so much, but since they had started dating a month ago it started to happen more frequently. Kei was still deciding whether he liked it or not.

“Are you trying to play innocent? Coy? You can’t fool me. You know what you’re doing.”

“No, I really don’t. I’m just -” he crossed one leg over the other, letting them rub against each other - “resting my legs.”

Kei’s eyes were drawn to the spot where Tadashi’s thighs now touched. Memories of the night before, and other nights before that, flooded through him, and he shifted his position on the couch himself, glad he had set the book in his lap a moment ago.

“Right,” Kei said, nodding like he finally understood the situation. “You’re just resting your leg and your shorts just _happen_ to inch up your thighs every time you move. No way you could have noticed that.”

Tadashi screwed his face up in an expression of mock surprise.

“They do? Tsukki, were you looking at my thighs?”

Some days Kei felt all he did was sigh. This was turning into one of those days. He did his best to ignore Tadashi’s comment and picked his book back up, opening it in a way that blocked the view of his lap.

“Tadashi. I’m trying to read. Sit like a normal human being for a little while, okay?”

“But I’m comfortable,” he said, now not even trying to hide the grin on his face.

Again he moved in the chair, this time curling his toes and stretching his arms up in a feigned yawn.

“I swear to god if you don’t stop that I’m going to come over there and make you,” Kei threatened, not entirely sure what he meant by that just yet, just that he was reaching his limit of Tadashi’s teasing.

“Make me? Go ahead,” Tadashi said. He looked right into Kei’s eyes and smiled. “You don’t scare me.”

Putting the book down on the table, maybe with more force than needed, Kei stood up from the couch. He walked slowly over to Tadashi, like he was taking his time. Each step closer he got the wider Tadashi’s grin became, until Kei finally reached the chair.

Without hesitation he scooped both of Tadashi’s legs into his arms and swung them around until Tadashi’s body was pulled along with them and positioned on the chair in the proper way. Kei’s fingers squeezed into his thighs once before he let them go. He wasn’t done, though. He crawled into the chair himself, legs on either side of Tadashi, straddling him and effectively stopping him from moving out of his new position.  

“I don’t scare you?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Nope. Never,” Tadashi answered, and tilted his head up to kiss Kei’s nose. “You know you’re still not reading. I don’t think your plan worked.”

Kei slumped, feeling defeated. His book remained on the table, out of reach and now out of mind. Maybe tomorrow he would have better luck.

“Shut up, Tadashi,” he said, and leaned forward to begin kissing him in earnest.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "Is that - blood?" (blood mention)

Yamaguchi was late for their usual Friday night movie. Tsukishima texted once to remind him after he disappeared after practice, then again when he was five minutes late. Two hours later Yamaguchi had a slew of messages from him ranging from annoyance to resignation to worry.

When it started to get dark, Tsukishima gave up on the plan of watching the movie they had picked out together, and set out to find Yamaguchi. He had a lecture already planned about answering text messages back in a timely fashion, and that if Yamaguchi was going to have a cell phone he might as well use it. Tsukishima was fairly certain he knew where Yamaguchi was, too. And what he was doing. Both of which were no excuse to leave Tsukishima waiting at home, wondering when he was going to show up.

He found Yamaguchi right where he thought he would: behind the Shimada Mart, a pool of light from the parking lot lamps betraying his location. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and walked across the asphalt, already rehearsing his spiel about common courtesy and the importance of letting people know when plans were changed.

The words died on his lips when he reached Yamaguchi. He held a volleyball in one hand, the other hovering below it as he breathed deeply through his nose. A portion of the ball was smeared with red, and his empty hand  matched the color perfectly.

“Is that - blood?” Tsukishima asked, forgoing a greeting in concern.

Yamaguchi jumped and turned around, finally noticing that he was not alone in the parking lot. His eyes widened in surprise, and the ball dropped from his hand to bounce once on the ground and roll away.

“What?” he said first, then quickly moved both hands behind his back, away from Tsukishima’s view. “No.”

Tsukishima sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. If Yamaguchi had been thinking maybe he would have known that denying it while simultaneously hiding his hands was proof enough that Tsukishima was right.

“Then why did you just put your hands behind your back?” Tsukshima intoned, voice flat. “Let me see them.”

Shaking his head, Yamaguchi took a small step back, the reach of the streetlight hitting its limit and masking half of his face in shadow.

“They’re fine, it’s nothing.”

Tsukishima felt a wave of deja vu. How many times had Yamaguchi denied his hurts to Tsukshima, and to everyone else? It wasn’t only aggravating, it was insulting. Out of all the people Yamaguchi knew, he should at least feel comfortable telling Tsukishima how he felt. That he didn’t was a source of pain in Tsukishima’s own chest.

He reached out with both hands and grabbed at Yamaguchi’s arms, trying to gently pull them away from his back.

“Tsukki, stop,” Yamaguchi whined, a hint of panic trembling in his voice.

Ignoring the protests, Tsukishima finally succeeded in getting Yamaguchi’s arms out in front of him again, and was faced with a clear view of his hands.

His left hand looked normal, but his right, the one he used to serve with, was a mess. Dried blood coated open blisters, some still oozing a thin translucent fluid. New blood shone wet and glimmering in the light, beading up on his palm.

“Yamaguchi…” Tsukishima took hold of Yamaguchi’s right wrist and held his hand in place, palm up. He could feel the slight tremble of it as he held on, and the heat of the wounds racing through his skin.

“What did you do? How long have you been practicing today?”

Yamaguchi didn’t make eye contact with him. He looked away, down at the ground, over at the forgotten ball. Anywhere but at Tsukishima.

“Just a few hours,” he mumbled.

Tsukishima frowned and tightened his grip on Yamaguchi’s wrist; not enough to hurt, but enough to keep him from wriggling it away. He didn’t want it to disappear inside one of Yamaguchi’s pockets, or back behind him again. If it was out of sight Yamaguchi could deny the pain, make some excuse how it was not a big deal.

“This didn’t happen in a few hours,” Tsukishima said firmly. The blisters must have formed days ago, and been built upon by more, not getting any time to heal. “Have you taken a break at all this week?”

Again Yamaguchi avoided Tsukishima’s eyes. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, talking into the collar of his shirt.

“Not really.”

“What are you thinking?” Tsukishima asked, lifting Yamaguchi’s hand up so it was in clear view of his eyes. If he looked at it he had to acknowledge it. Tsukishima was not going to let this slide; this was too far. Seeing his best friend injured, and by his own doing, was not a sight he ever wanted to see again.    

“It’s just a game, it’s not worth this.”

Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi finally looked up at him, his bottom lip quivering and his eyes swimming in unshed tears.

“I’m the only first year who’s not a starter. I barely get to play…”

And there it was. The root of the problem, the cloud that hung over Yamaguchi’s head that Tsukishima knew was there, but never understood just how dark it could be. It wasn’t something he could understand fully; he had been put on the starting line up right away, as had the other two first years. Yamaguchi must have felt left out, and with good reason. There was nothing Tsukishima could do about that, though. For the first time in their friendship there was nothing he could do it help Yamaguchi.

“And this is going to help that?” Tsukishima look go of Yamaguchi’s wrist, and it fell to his side limply. He put his hand instead on the other boys shoulder, a rare moment of contact that felt not only appropriate but right. When he spoke next his voice was softer, having lost the edge of frustration and been replaced with affection.

“We have three years here, Yamaguchi. You’re not helping yourself right now. All your doing is ruining your hands.”

“But what if I don’t get better? What if I can’t keep up with you?” Yamaguchi seemed to slump under the weight of Tsukishima’s hand on his shoulder, all the fight draining out of him.      

“I want to play, too,” he said softly.

Pursing his lips, Tsukishima considered what to say. He didn’t feel the same drive as Yamaguchi, and whatever words he thought he had were lost when he saw tears finally well and escape down Yamaguchi’s cheeks. There had to be something true he could say, something he knew so certainly that it could reach Yamaguchi even in the depths of his fear.

“Then keep practicing. But not like this,” Tsukishima said, and removed his hand from Yamaguchi’s shoulder to  again take hold of his wrist, gently this time. “You’ll have plenty of chances to play, so stop doing whatever this is.”

By some miracle he must have said the right thing. Tsukishima breathed a sigh of relief as Yamaguchi did is best to smile.

“Really?” He sniffled and wiped the tears off his cheeks with his sleeve.

Tsukishima nodded, his eyes on the wet trails where Yamaguchi had attempted to dry his face. Still holding onto Yamaguchi’s wrist, he began to walk towards the exit of the parking lot, leading the other boy along with him.

“Now come on, we have to take care of your hands. I have some hydrogen peroxide and bandages at home. It’s going to hurt though, but that’s your own fault.”          

He looked back at Yamaguchi, who was now smiling in earnest, for what reason Tsukishima could not place.

“Okay, Tsukki,” he said, and sped up his pace so they could walk back side by side.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Things you said with too many miles between us.

The familiar sound of a Skype call coming in jolted Tadashi out of his study dazed trance. He scrambled through the papers spread over his bed and reached for his open laptop, nearly dropping it before he settled it into his lap.

A wave of excitement passed through him as he saw Kei’s icon flashing on the screen - a picture Tadashi had taken of the two of them before Kei had left: him smiling and Kei looking at the camera like he would rather be anywhere else.

He hastily clicked the accept button on the call, already smiling as wide as he could when his webcam stuttered to life.

“Tadashi? Can you see me?”  

Kei’s voice came in through the speakers on his computer, somewhat scratchy and metallic, but still warm. Had he really forgotten how pleasant Kei’s voice sounded? It was the sweetest sound Tadashi had heard all day.

He fidgeted impatiently as the screen cycled through black and then pixilated colors, waiting for the moment Kei’s face would transform the screen.

“No…ah, there. Yes! Hi!” Tadashi instinctually edged closer to the screen, like it was Kei himself he was trying to reach.

Thousands of miles away Kei smiled into his webcam, too. Tadashi felt his heart melt at the sight, like it always did. It felt like years since he had seen it in person and had been able to lean over and kiss Kei’s smiling lips, though in reality it had only been two months. Two month that crawled by like a lifetime.

“Hi,” Kei said once the connection had stabilized.       

They were both silent for a moment, searching each others faces for anything new, any little thing they had missed since the last time they had seen each other. Finding nothing, words surged from their lips simultaneously, like they shared a mental link despite the great distance between them.

“I love -”

“ - love you.” 

Tadashi giggled, covering his mouth with his hand. Even Kei chuckled, and when his eyes stopped watering Tadashi could see Kei still smiling at the little coincidence.

“Let me say it first next time,” Kei said, and Tadashi knew he was feigning the grumpy tone his voice had taken on. It didn’t matter if they spoke over each other, or if one of them said it first or last; they both meant it, and even without hearing it Tadashi knew it was true.

Shifting on the bed to get more comfortable now that his frantic rush to see Kei had ended, Tadashi finally took a closer look at the screen. The room around Kei was dark, and he himself was partially in shadow, the glow back from his computer screen making him appear somewhat mysterious.

“It’s late there isn’t it?” Tadashi asked, checking the clock at the bottom of his screen and noting the time.

“Yeah, it’s past midnight,” Kei answered. He rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, then readjusted them. “I just got in. A few of the people in my study group dragged me out to this disgusting bar to do karaoke with them.”

Tadashi beamed at the camera, happy to hear that Kei was finally making friends while he was studying abroad. It did not even occur to him to be jealous or distrustful. They had moved past that long ago.

“Did you sing?”

Kei rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, like the answer should have been obvious before Tadashi even asked it.

“Tsk. Seriously?” He moved in his chair, half of his face getting cut off as he found a better way to sit. When he was again fully in frame his eyes wandered around the screen, likely taking in the mess of papers around Tadashi. “What are you doing?”

“Just some homework,” Tadashi answered. “I’ve got class in an hour.”

Kei frowned, eyes flicking towards the bottom of his own screen. He looked back up and seemed to notice the sunlight streaming through Tadashi’s window for the first time.

“Oh, right. I got my times mixed up.”

“It’s okay,” Tadashi said, shaking his head. This was far from the first time they had this exact conversation. It was hard to keep track of the difference in their time zones along with everything else in their busy lives. On top of classes and Tadashi’s part time job there wasn’t much time left to consider the hour when they had a free moment to call each other. Most of their chats were whispered in the middle of the night for one of them, or else hurried through in the few spare minutes before one of their lectures started.

A minute dragged by in silence, then two. Tadashi  bit at his lip, trying to think of something to say that would be interesting or new. On the other side of the connection Kei fiddled with his glasses and yawned.

“Listen-”

“Hey, I-”

They both spoke at the same time again, their words jumbling together. Neither of them laughed this time, but instead just shook their heads and apologized.

“You go,” Kei said finally.

Tadashi took a breath, then spoke so quietly he worried the microphone might not pick it up.

“I really miss you.”

Kei nodded, a slight smile on his lips.

“That’s what I was going to say, too.”

Instead of the warm feeling Kei’s words usually gave him, Tadashi felt his chest tighten. He was so tired of saying this same thing over and over. _I miss you. I miss you so much._ The words were beginning to lose meaning, becoming only a mantra that they repeated when there was nothing else to say. How many more times could he hear Kei said them before he stopped really hearing them? Before he himself forgot to say them?

“I should sleep, Tadashi.” Kei’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to the screen to see Kei rubbing at his eyes again.

“Oh,” Tadashi said quietly. “Well, I’ll call you later?”

Kei nodded and Tadashi noticed the small smile from a minute ago was gone.

“Yeah. I’ll try to be awake later for you.”

It had only been two months, but _I’ll stay awake for you_ had already turned into _I’ll try to be awake for you_. It was an offhand thing and likely didn’t mean anything, but still the difference was there, stabbing at his heart.

“I love you…” Tadashi trailed off, ending the conversation the way they always did, the words now less bright than when they had said them earlier.

“I love you, too,” Kei replied instantly, as if he had been waiting for his cue. “Goodnight, Tadashi.”

The call ended before Tadashi could click the red button on the screen. It shouldn’t have bothered him; it was late, Kei was tired. They were both busy. But as he gathered his things for class  he couldn’t help but feel lonelier than he did before Kei had called.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "You look pretty hot in plaid."

Tsukishima didn’t like the beginning of spring. He didn’t like the end of spring either. Right now, though, it was the chill of the wind blowing through the budding trees that offended him the most. Things were supposed to grow when it was _warm_ , not when it still felt like the sky could open up and throw snow down at any moment.

“Can it not be cold anymore?” He grumbled, kicking at a rock on the ground as he walked. He pulled his sweater closer around him, trying to get as much warmth out of it as possible. “I’m sick of this weather.”

Next to him Yamaguchi giggled,  skipping ahead to kick the rock out of Tsukishima’s reach.

“Tsukki, when it’s warmer you’re just going to be sick of that too.”

“So?” Tsukishima asked, looking over at Yamaguchi and narrowing his eyes. “Right now I’m tired of being freezing all the time. I’ll complain about being hot when I’m hot.”

They continued to walk down the sidewalk, Tsukishima making noises of annoyance at  the world in general. He had been so warm in practice just a few minutes ago, the heat of so many moving bodies in the gym fogging up the high windows like a sauna. Now the sweat had dried on his skin and chilled him each time the wind whipped past. He should have worn a coat this morning. He shouldn’t have trusted the brightly shining sun anymore than he trusted the weather report.

“Are you really that cold?”

Tsukishima turned to look at Yamaguchi and rolled his eyes. How  the other boy was always warmer than he was was a mystery to Tsukishima. Sometimes he thought of Yamaguchi as a furnace - generating his own heat that warmed not only him but anyone who was lucky enough to be close to him.

“Did I not just say that?”

Yamaguchi stopped in place, shrugging off his school bag and the one that held his extra clothes from practice. He unbuttoned his top layer, a dark red and black plaid flannel shirt.

“Here,” he said, pulling it off and offering to Tsukishima. “You can wear one of my layers.”

The wind rushed at him again, and Tsukishima’s fingers twitched at his side with the desire to take Yamaguchi up on his offer. He almost reached out and grabbed it, but stopped himself and instead clicked his tongue in indifference

“I’m at least two sizes bigger than you,” he said, trying to come up with a reason to refuse the shirt. If he took it not only would Yamaguchi be colder himself, but Tsukishima might not want to ever give it back.

“No you’re not,” Yamaguchi argued, shoving the shirt into Tsukishima’s hand before he tried to walk away. “You’re just gangly like some type of weird bird. Put it on.”

Tsukishima sighed heavily and gave in, knowing to put up any more fight would just leave him exhausted and wearing the shirt anyway. He dropped his bags onto the ground and pulled the shirt over his sweater, tugging it over his broad shoulders. The sleeves were inches too short, ending somewhere above his wrists, and it stretched a bit across his back, but overall Yamaguchi was right. It wasn’t uncomfortably tight or small, just a bit short.

“Whoa,” Yamaguchi said, mouth open in awe. He was staring at Tsukishima, eyes scanning his body.

Tsukishima’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink at the attention, and he tugged at the sleeves, trying to get them to cover his wrists.

“What? I told you-“

“No, no, keep it on,” Yamaguchi interrupted, grinning. He took a step closer to Tsukishima and pulled at the collar of the shirt, adjusting it so it wasn’t crinkled in on itself.

“You look pretty hot in plaid,” he said, close to Tsukishima’s ear.

The blush on Tsukishima’s cheeks changed from pink to red, and he stepped back to bend down and pick up his bags.  

“I’m keeping it on because it’s warm,” he said firmly. Then softer - “And because it smells like you.”


End file.
